Sunday 2 July 2023
It’s almost 07:45 and I’ve just walked out to open the front gates. However, I have been scared off by Mrs Pheasant and what appear to be seven pheasant chicks. Chris claims to have been chased by her in a flapping and screaming frenzy when he interrupted her escorting her chicks across the garden. He’s since Googled and found out that pheasants attacking humans posing a threat to their young is quite the thing and there is apparently a postman somewhere who won’t go near a certain area due to likelihood of pheasant attack. Who knew. Anyway, I was walking up the garden the other day when I heard a threatening sound. I looked up and saw Mrs Pheasant, poised for attack and most definitely sending out warning cries. I stood still and watched her. She didn’t go for me but she screamed at me for a while before heading up the hill and seemingly calling the chicks who then part-ran/part-flew up the bank. I counted five but there are definitely at least seven. I then noticed that Mr Pheasant was stealthing up behind and further up the bank. I’m not sure how well I’d have come off with Mr and Mrs Pheasant going for me. I am mildly amused (with potential to upgrade the danger level) that we are under siege by a family of pheasants.
Yesterday, Angela and I drove to Eyemouth on the east coast, via Melrose. It was chilly, wet and raining when we left home, but the further we drove, the sunnier it became. By the time we arrived in Eyemouth it was a beautiful sunny day with quite a strong wind. We bought fish for dinner and a lobster and prawn salad that the fishmonger had made up for lunch. We followed the coastal path from Eyemouth to St Abbs and back. I couldn’t have wished for a better walk, especially with the fairly dramatic wind. We stopped once on a beach to eat our fancy lobster and prawn salads, some of which blew away, then at the end, we stopped for cake that we’d brought from home. It doesn’t take much for me to go on about how beautiful it is in Scotland anyway, but that stretch of coast with its clear sea, rocks and kind of pinky cliffs and lush green grass and bracken is dramatic, unspoilt and beautiful. The beaches were quiet and nowhere near as many people walking as there would have been in, say, southeast England, though I know that’s obvious. Lovely day and so good to have a long walk and chats with Angela.
We didn’t get home until around 20:00, we checked on the water tank and walked around the garden, then finally started on our fish dinner and didn’t eat until shortly before 22:00. Both nights Angela has been here, we’ve eaten dinner really late but it hasn’t seemed late because it’s still so ludicrously light in the evenings. It will definitely be a bit disappointing when Chris and I start noticing it going dark earlier.